


two sides of the same coin

by katzette



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 08:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6847612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katzette/pseuds/katzette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Can’t wait to kick your ass, Tetsu.”<br/>“Good.” Kuroo counters with a grin of his own, equally as taunting and vibrant. “The key is to keep on dreaming.”<br/>“We’re on the same team,” Keiji says, feeling the first throb of a sweet headache.</p>
            </blockquote>





	two sides of the same coin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [bokuakakuro week](http://bokuakakuroweek.tumblr.com/), day one.

“Remind me again why I’m here.”

“Moral support.”

“For them or for you, Akaashi-san?”

Keiji whips Tsukishima with one of his vacant stares that are rumoured to be capable of cutting through diamond. According to Bokuto, anyway, who’s been on their receiving end since day one and has survived them all.

They find a seat in the first row of the bleachers that overlook the one of the gym buildings of the university. The place is intimidating, a fortress meant to entrap and care for the most promising athletes under the wing of this university. Keiji’s felt the weight of pressure since he’s walked through the doors with nothing but the sound of ball flying across the court to lead the way.

Below, some people are leaving the gym with a wave or a _goodbye_ while only a few others are onlookers to a minor spectacle unfolding on the court. Keiji leans over the railing of the bleachers and watches six bodies move on the court. He knows two of them like the back of his hand. One is Kuroo Tetsurou, the impregnable wall, the ache to Keiji’s heart. The other is Bokuto, with thunder in his palm, storm in his eye. They are hip to hip, countering the opposite team in a fury of spikes and blocks.

They are unstoppable.

Keiji thinks of one of their prolonged practice sessions in high school when Kuroo had said: “Even after all this time, I still can’t decide if I want to stand on your side of the court, or on the opposite side of it.” That day, he obliterated seventeen of Bokuto’s spikes with successful blocks, and had thirty-four blast right past it. On the other side of the net, exhaustion dabbed Bokuto’s face in sweat, but couldn't touch his wild grin. Nothing could. Keiji was standing between them, panting, clinging to breath. He was halfway out the door, half eager to toss some more. He stayed.

“ _Akaashi_!”

Keiji’s pulled out of his memory with a roar of Bokuto’s voice. Every head in the gym is turned to him, expectant. Tsukishima sinks into his seat and escapes the spotlight.

Keiji straightens his back, embracing the attention with but a nervous tingle crawling up his spine.

“Come here,” Kuroo calls, his grin reassuring. Keiji has no reason to doubt him.

Keiji leaves the bleachers, pulling lightly at Tsukishima’s nose as revenge, and comes down to join them on the court. The guys Kuroo and Bokuto have been playing against, join their side of the court. They look as though they want to engage him in a conversation but Bokuto already has him swept up in his arms, taking him for a few spins. The world is a blur and he feels like a bag of feathers, his weight posing no threat to his safety in Bokuto’s arms.

“Is this the infamous, Akaashi?” One of the guys asks, crossing his arms, smirking.

Bokuto puts Keiji down and his head spins. He greets all three of them with one small bow of his head. “Infamous?”

Kuroo can’t stop grinning.

The tallest of the guys says, “ _’Akaashi’s tosses are the best’_ and ‘ _Akaashi would do it like this or like that_ ’ and ‘ _Akaashi could practice longer than that!’”_ He doesn’t do a good job imitating Bokuto’s manner of speech, but Keiji feels a flush spread across his face.

“Does that really surprise you, Keiji? You know Bokuto. I couldn't stop him,” Kuroo says.

The guy with blond hair pitches in, “ _You_ are the one who said Akaashi can _make gold out of dust, turn water to ice with a glance and tame a mutant owl._ ”

“It was a _metaphor_.”

Bokuto guffaws. He ends his bout of laughter with a decisive clap of his hands.

“Let’s play three against three. Akaashi is with me and Kuroo.”

Keiji thinks about turning on his heels and making a run for it. But there are eyes at the back of his head and he feels six months too early for this. Yet. He stays where he is, motionless, meeting Kuroo and Bokuto’s eager gazes and returning them in earnest.

“Okay,” the tallest guy accepts with a casual shrug. “Let’s see what your Akaashi is made of.”

“First to score two wins.”

They spread out on the court. Keiji rolls up his sleeves, warming up his fingers for what’s to come.

Bokuto turns to Kuroo. “Can’t wait to kick your ass, Tetsu.”

“Good.” Kuroo counters with a grin of his own, equally as taunting and vibrant. “The key is to keep on dreaming.”

“We’re on the same team,” Keiji says, feeling the first throb of a sweet headache.

Keiji says this because it’s a habit; because his tongue knows no other. But he can tell by the way they stand on the court that their absolute faith in one another has become an entity of its own. It wasn’t like this in high school when they only knew each other as rivals. And friends.

The ball swishes across the court and he’s given the honor to serve. He takes a deep breath and sends the ball flying, following its trajectory across the court. The blond player lifts it up again and it flies to their spiker. Keiji catches sight of Kuroo moving toward the net, stalking the other player like a wild cat would. Then his feet leap off the ground and he destroys the spike.

One point for them.

Bokuto and Kuroo high-five.

Keiji serves again. This time, when the ball returns to their court, Keiji is the one to lift it up. Kuroo receives it, with a telling smile, and sends it back to Keiji. There’s a switch in the air now; an electrifying quality to the way the entire court grows smaller and pulls him towards Bokuto’s expectant eyes. Keiji runs, gets in position, catches sight of Bokuto preparing to spike, and tosses the ball to him.

The ball catches that perfect spot on Bokuto’s palm and he smacks it into the opposite side of the court.

“Told you all, _hey hey hey_!” Bokuto shouts, eyes closed in triumph upon his sweaty brow.

Kuroo’s hand clutches the front of his shirt, expression melting into that of fondness, but he hides it by lifting his shirt up to wipe his face, abs rippling in light and sweet.

The tips of Keiji’s fingers tingle where the ball has touched it, and he doesn't even care how the other guys look with defeat on their faces. He looks down at his feet. This spot will belong to him in a few months.

He lifts his head when he spots Kuroo and Bokuto’s sneakers coming to stand next to his.

“Do you want to see the locker rooms?”

Keiji hears the real question in Kuroo’s voice and nods.

They lead him behind the bleachers into a wide, musky-smelling room. There’s nobody inside but Bokuto locks the door behind them anyway. Keiji can only look around the room for so long until Kuroo has him pressed up against one of the lockers, kissing into his mouth  with adrenaline leftovers on his lips. Keiji tastes salt on his tongue and welcomes the warmth spreading in his belly. He wraps one of his arms around Kuroo’s neck, and with the other, he seeks out Bokuto’s hand.

Bokuto’s calloused fingers squeeze him back and Keiji has to part from Kuroo’s mouth, or else. His facial expression is arranged in perfect harmony to hide the lava inside, though he’s sure Kuroo can tell, his eyes reflecting much of Keiji’s thoughts.

“One day, all this will be ours,” Bokuto proposes. He feels this differently from Keiji and Kuroo, but it’s there, burning just as bright.

“Yeah,” Keiji says, and it’s a promise.

Kuroo presses his wet, teasing mouth to Keiji’s cheek and murmurs, “Thanks for coming.”

“I was in the mood for some public humiliation.”

“Ouch.” Kuroo’s lips twitch.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to ride out of here on the back of my mutant owl.”

Kuroo groans, palm finding his face and hiding behind it. Bokuto nudges him playfully and they leave the locker rooms in a suspicious tandem. Much to Keiji’s delight, nobody seems to care, too wrapped up in putting balls away.

“Ah,” Bokuto exclaims, out of the blue, his finger pointing somewhere up the bleachers.  “Tsukki is here too.” He raises his voice. “You should join us for another round, Tsukki!”

Tsukishima gives a polite nod of his head and pushes his glasses up his nose.  There’s a split second in which he’s so still that Keiji wonders if he’s frozen for good.

Then, he runs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thinking about Akaashi being "left behind" always gets me down so I wanted to write something hopeful. Like, what they have transcends this tiny difference between them. Also, quick locker room make-outs. Happy bokuakakuro week~
> 
> [tumblr](http://katzette.tumblr.com/).


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